The Hunger Games: the raging fire
by xTongueTied
Summary: It is twenty years after the rebellion's war. They have won, but unfortunately Coin has turned out to be the same as Snow was. The Hunger Games continue to live on and Katniss' niece and nephew are going in this time. Welcome to the 95th annual Hunger Games. [I do not own any of the already existing characters.]
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

**About me  
**I am a nineteen year old girl. My mother tongue is not English, so any grammatical mistakes or spelling mistakes may occur, however I do double-check on them. Some sentences may be formulated very oddly, but you can always point them out to me. I am very open about tips and tricks and whatnot, so any help is welcome.

**Chapter One  
**_Introduction_

District 12. The dull morning light wakes me up and brings me back to this harsh reality. Since the war, twenty years ago, when I wasn't born yet, the Capitol has taken away so many things from us. Our security has tightened up and Katniss, our symbol, is continuously under guard. I think they're still afraid of the rebellion's fire that burned within them as they fought to their own defeat for freedom. In some places, they are still fighting – but now against Coin. Food supplies are scarce because of those on-going fights within the far districts. At night, I pray for them to surrender, because starvation is the cruellest thing to collapse from. How can we, children, even stand a fight in The Hunger Games, when our skin is so weak and our bones sticking out from it?

My body shifts one more before I open my eyes. My family and I live in this very nice house. We're only four though, just my mother, father, brother and I. Family of the winning tributes of district 12, we are very lucky to receive private training. This way, we do stand a chance if we indeed are unlucky to get picked out at the reaping. My brother is now eighteen and it's his last year as a candidate tribute, and chances are really big for him. However, Katniss always told us to fear for the people whose chances are slim too. Her little sister, and my mother, only had her name entered once and was picked out. I take a deep breath before I swing my legs out of bed. Tomorrow's the reaping and Peeta wanted to train all day with me to take away the stress. In no time, I am dressed in comfortable clothes, resistance to any type of training or any kind of weather. I usually only find out what my training will be when I arrive at the spot. My mind shifts to the next day, when I will be standing in a square, pressed tightly to the other candidates. Bad butterflies immediately start to flutter in my stomach, making me nauseous.  
I move slowly, because my muscles are still sore from yesterday's training with Haymitch. He insisted on taking me out in the woods and have me climb trees all day. I know that this last week of training's adjusting my weaknesses until I am average enough with them. This way, I stand a bigger chance in the arena too, if the odds aren't in my favour. We mock it, day by day, and the closer we get to reaping day, how more tense the mocking gets.

My aunt, Katniss, doesn't talk about her time in the arena – there's no need to, she says. We can see it on television every year. She urges us to behave, to do what the Capitol longs for us; or we must pay a price she had to pay too: almost no freedom. Her privacy remains within District 12; there is no way they can run though. Stuck forever in the dusty coal mines of the dull district we live in, though not as condemned as the regular civilians – for she still has a status of a victor, though Coin doesn't trust her. And Katniss doesn't trust Coin – well, no, that's an understatement. This is something that my aunt does talk about, about the traitor Coin, who had led the rebellions to victory only to double-cross them into continuing the Hunger Games for her own personal gain: more power for her.

Peeta greets me with a jovial expression that is only his; the gleaming of his eyes and the brightness of his smile remains the same, no matter what happens. It's something that I adore about him; no matter how hopeless the situation is, he'll always get you through. He's also a gentle trainer, nothing like Haymitch or Katniss. I mean, they're both great and everything – but distant and hard. I guess that's what it takes to win in the competition, but outside of it I'd like to be least confronted with the arena's atmosphere. I press my lips on his cheek and greet him with a humbled voice; the nerves really are getting to me. Peeta doesn't waste time today and takes me to his house, to teach me the ways of disguising myself – something I have looked forward to ever since seeing the footage where he hid himself. It takes a lot of concentration, and my uncle urges me that I must not let my mind slip away to other things as I paint, because details are lifesaving here. He makes me mimic the structure of a tree bark, not really the simplest of disguises if you ask me. It's a struggle, and my attention does slip away after a period. Peeta, observant as ever, notices and takes me out for a little break. The break? Observing the nature, the way it looks like and asking me how I would paint them.

In the distance, I can see my brother train with Haymitch and Katniss. He's had more training than I have, because of his chances to get in. My name's only in there four times, while his is in six times. His actions are smooth, and you can see the flow of his muscles underneath his skin. He's really bulky, my brother, quite the opposite of me. I'm more slim, lithe. Speed will always be my advantage in the arena, while his would be power. Sweat breaks out on my skin when I think what would happen if we were both picked – oh, how tragic would it be: brother and sister, niece and nephew of a victor, both chosen to fight in the arena. It could happen, if Coin wanted some revenge on Katniss for whatever reason. It has been done in the past twenty years. However much I respect my uncle, I don't really think that painting is my thing. And although I understand how it saved his own life in the arena, such a long time ago, I don't think it would do wonders for me – for I don't have any talent.


	2. Chapter 2: The Reaping

**Chapter Two  
**_The Reaping_  
The next morning is a bit brighter, which is very ironic. It always seems to be such a lovely day on the morning of the reaping, as if it isn't hard enough that every child between twelve and eighteen could be dead within a month. No, the sun has to make the burning anxiety even worse, by making our clothes sticky and uncomfortable. I take my time to sit at the breakfast table and munch on the many delicious loaves of bread that Peeta has baked for us. We need to be filled, strong enough to take any blows that may come – even if we didn't get picked. Any of our friends could have to go, and there is no way to deny the searing pain that brings. We have seen it happen for so many years now – I for four years and my brother for six years. We had to watch our beloveds go and die. There was no use being angry with Katniss, Peeta or Haymitch – because we knew how hard they tried to bring them back to us. Over and over, they comforted us by telling they're better of anyway – the Capitol would've taken everything away from them.

My brother catches my eye and gives me a slow nod, one that only I recognize. I'm quite close with my brother, James Lossly. Slowly, my chin makes the same notion, as shivers run up and down my spine. My crystal blue eyes quickly dart away from him, for I can't bare looking at him any longer. I must be strong, today. In that exact moment, my mother comes down with such a bright smile that I can't help but smile back. She runs one of her chilly, small feminine hands through my auburn hair, and I close my eyes to enjoy the calming motion. However hard today will be for us, it will be ten times harder for Prim. Having to watch us stand there, the tension building up in all of our family and friends – it's heart-breaking, especially for a mother of two children that has seen her sister go to the awful arena twice, plus war.  
"I have a dress ready for you." She tells me, with the same bright smile on her lips. I know that today, she will not let her façade slip. She will be strong for the both of us. She then turn to my brother and informs him that also his clothes are ready, and simultaneously my brother and I get up. I am allowed to bathe first, and for a few minutes I let myself enjoy the warmth of the water before I slip out and dry myself with one of the soft towels that are always provided by the Capitol. I can easily do without the luxury, but Katniss insisted that we live with her.

Ten minutes later, I call my brother's name to the kitchen and rapidly move back into my room before he strolls up the stairs. I walk up to my bed, my eyes locked on a light blue silk gown my mother picked out for me. It's been her mother's, and my grandmother's, before she passed away after being shot during the war. I know how much my mother had loved her, and I have to fight back tears when I realize what it means. It's her simple, but true way, of telling me how much she loves me, and will always love me.

When I have put on the gown and everything, there is nothing left for me but wait. To wait until the sirens call for us to gather on the square, and face that we might be chosen to go out there and fight until we either die or win. It's a slow, excruciating hour, and I don't think that anything gets through to me. I see Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch popping in to wish us luck, but I don't really catch any of their words. Their words are only empty as I am filled with anxiety, fear and longing; my head seems as if it's going to explode any minute now as the sirens finally call for us. My brother immediately gets up, concern in his eyes as he looks at me. But again, there is this slow nod between us, and he is reassured. I take his hand, and together we walk – our heads held high – to register our blood at the reaping.  
"May the odds be ever in your favour, Leisha." James whispers to me before he lets go and walks away. I sigh, and leave to take my place in the midst of the other sixteen year olds, their fear radiating from them. They take a step aside from me, so that I am clearly visible from the stage. They fear me, niece of a victor, and think I would bring them bad luck if they came too close.

Effie Trinket, another survivor of the war, is announced and steps on the stage with the new mayor and the victors of District Twelve. They all take place except Effie and her bizarre appearance. The same show that has gone on for almost one hundred years is repeated, and everyone just stands there; staring at the Capitol's spawn and fearing it with all they have. The propo is dull and too long as ever, and reminds us of Panem's complete history. It's been adapted after the rebellion's war, and many of the parents standing around us, have fought in that war. I glance back to the audience and watch many outraged expressions appear as they are informed that they will be taught a lesson for their disloyalty – the rebellions have been betrayed by their leader, and you can still feel it. When I turn back to face the stage, a silence grows out of the fading music and crushes us with reality – it is time.

"Well, ladies first," Effie says with her everlasting happiness. I can see Haymitch mumble something under his breath and I can't help but smile. Effie hops to the gigantic bowl, holding every female's name – once or more – between twelve and eighteen. It's impressive, how long she can stretch the moment until she finally catches a folded paper and carefully takes it with her to the microphone. She giggles as she folds it open and reads it.  
"Alysia Gold." The name is clearly audible, and the silence lingers on until a tall, blonde girl steps forward. Immediately, the girls surrounding her step aside, to give her room to stride forward. Effie welcomes her, and moves on to the male group. The same scene repeats itself and she strides back, only to keep her slowness.  
"Jonathan Elea." The name rings through the audience, and as the boy – fifteen years old – bursts out in tears and walks up to the stage, my brother and I look at each other. At the same, we slowly nod.

"Any volunteers?" Effie's voice is shrill now, because she know there won't be any. The reaping is over, her few moments to shine are gone. Now it's the tributes and the victors – and the designers, of course – that will take all credit for any fabulous work.  
"I volunteer." My brother and I say it at the same time. Cameras can't decide whom to turn to, me or my brother? Neither my mother, my aunt, my uncle or Haymitch is surprised. Perhaps it was obvious after all. We step forward and make our way up the stairs to meet each other in front of the microphone, gripping each other's hands and shaking them firmly. We're going in.


	3. Chapter 3: The Travel

**Chapter Three  
**_The travel**  
**_Terror is the first thing I register on my mother's face when she enters the room I am kept in to say goodbye to anyone that wishes to. She hugs me tight and whispers me the things she has prepared to tell me if this moment would ever come. And now it's finally here, and I stand there in her arms, speechless. All the words I had thought of are gone. My mind is just blank, empty, completely focused on my last moments in life. A small knock informs us that she has to go, and I kiss her forehead.  
"I love you, mom." I whisper as I let go of her. The next visitor is my best friend Natasha, and she smiles as she walks up to me. She, too, had suspected our plan but never acted like she knew. I see no fear in her eyes, no sorrow – but acceptance, and this gives me courage. Her grey seam eyes scan my face for the same emotions, but I know she can't find anything. I don't feel scared. I know what I'm doing, as I knew what I was doing when I volunteered and saved that little girl's life. Her arms lock around my waist as she buries her head into my neck, breathing heavily. Goodbyes are always hard, but she had known that it would come to this one day. It would've been strange if I had never been chosen to fight until the death in the arena.  
"I just went to see your brother," She says as she steps away from me after a bone-shattering hug. I nod, for I still haven't found the right words to say.  
"I'm glad you'll have each other, Leisha." She grabs my hand and stares into my eyes when we hear the soft knock – the second time I hear it for me. I hug her again as the door opens and they ask her to leave. I let go of her and watch her walk away; my bestest friend in the whole world apart from my brother, now gone forever. I hope she'll be strong when she watches me on television, fighting for my life. I need her to be strong.

Strangely, there are no more visitors. But when I come to think of it, I can't think of anyone else to come and say goodbye to me anyway – or no one that is important enough the be allowed to speak to me. Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch and my brother are coming with me – no reason to have them be here now, right? I breathe in deeply and brace myself for the upcoming hoopla.

It is only five minutes later when the door swings open and two Peacekeepers – former rebellions – escort me out of the Mayor's Mansion and into a car. I glide in my seat next to my brother and we lock hands, both waving our goodbyes to the crowd surrounding and delaying the car. I suspect our mentors to already be aboard on the train, and watch Effie's huge wig wobble on her head as she frets about how slowly we are driving to the station. Finally, we reach the train and take our places in front of it for a last wave to our mother and friends. As soon as we're on the train and seated in the salon, our mentors join us. They take place in the three seats facing us, their faces stern and their mouths quiet. They stare us down, and I begin to feel very uncomfortable. I know they aren't too happy with the both of us volunteering – I think they didn't expect that after all.  
"Did you really have to do that to your mother?" Katniss finally says something, her voice cold as ice. I immediately feel like I turn into ice as well while my brother uneasily shifts in his chair. Peeta's hand finds my aunt's arm, to soothe her with his warm touch. My clear blue eyes lock on their skins touching, focus on it to avoid their stares.  
"Well, the audience is going to love this!" Haymitch always finds a way to make things look better, I guess, even though it does not calm Katniss down at all. I allow a smile to form on my lips as Haymitch secretly winks at me.  
"Katniss, you know we had to. I couldn't watch another girl die." I softly try to calm her down. The only reaction I get in return is a small nod. So she understands, she's just concerned about us and her sister. I breathe out in relief. We've got their support after all.

The next three days we spend talking about the previous games and watch the other district's reaping. We watch our opponents and especially focus on District One and Two, that are famous for being Careers in the cruel games. I immediately forget their names, but I know I'll have to learn them in a few days – or in a week or something – anyway. There is no getting out of having to face that they're all children, whom I'll have to kill if necessary. One girl, Emily Andrews, from District Seven, catches my attention – and I can't forget her face, nor her name. It makes me feel uneasy, and I try to focus on something else. After an hour, I forget about her.

We don't make late nights, ever, and now focus on the theoretical part about the Hunger Games. The more we know about the games itself and the game makers, the more advantage we gain when we are dropped into the arena. I can't help but wonder about what arena they have designed this year for twenty-three children to die in. I secretly hope it's a jungle or a forest, like Katniss' both games, but I doubt it will be. It were the arena's from the previous two years, and the Capitol doesn't like repetitive things – it bores them. The second day, I bring my concerns up during dinner. We trained in a forest, and this clearly is our biggest strength – but what if it's the opposite of a forest?  
"Remember that no one knows what the arena will be like." Haymitch answers my question while Peeta nods – I don't know where Katniss is now.  
"This means that you'll be starting from zero, just like the other tributes." The eldest victor adds while he looks at me and my brother. We continue our discussion until Katniss joins us and sits with us, adding her contribution to the conversation.  
"Oh, right. I just went to see Effie up at the front. We'll be in the Capitol in the morning."


	4. Chapter 4: The Capitol

**Hey! I would like to thank you all for spending your time reading this. I really appreciate it. Feel free to comment, review or react in any way you'd like. I am open to everything, and you can always PM me.**

**Chapter Four  
**_The capitol**  
**_The last night on the train is cruel, filled with nightmares and visions of previous games I have seen throughout my life. Somehow, the terror of the rebellion's war is interlaced with these images, the crushed hope after the rebel's victory over Snow when the Hunger Games continued to exist. But to all nights and nightmares comes an end, and so does this one.  
When I get to the breakfast table, Haymitch is glugging up a bottle of strong liquor, probably enjoying his last hours being able to be hammered. Everything is quiet and James looks like he hasn't slept. It's a bit sad, and tension builds up with every second ticking by. I can't handle it and remove myself from the table to lounge on the couch until Effie joins me in her erect pose. I watch her and decide that the Capitol really is a bit too stiff for me.

"Almost there!" Effie cries it out with so much enthusiasm that I cringe. The windows blacken and James walks over to them to stare out of them from the moment we exit the tunnel to the Capitol. I wonder if it has changed much since before the war, but the others say that except from some Thirteen citizens, it hasn't changed a bit – including the cruelties.

As soon as we can gape at the enormous size of the Capitol, things speed up. We barely get time to take a deep breath of fresh air or we're already pushed into a super-fancy car that drives us to the Training Centre, where we will be spending two weeks until we are thrown into the arena to kill and die. Haymitch starts mumbling that nothing really has changed a bit – and Katniss tells me he does that every time since the war – while James disappears to his big room to take a shower. I'm not sure what to do, so I decide to linger in the living room a bit, completely nervous about the Tribute's Parade that will be taking place tonight.  
"I wish Cinna was still here." Effie says it bluntly and I can see pain in my aunt's eyes. She really had liked her designer, hadn't she? I sigh and escape the awkward moment by dashing out for a shower as well.

The clothes in my closet are all of a soft, warm material and I let them glide through my fingers before I decide to put on a wide t-shirt with some jeans. I've never felt such things wrapping around my body in a perfect fit before, and I smile to myself. My long, blondish hair is neatly draped over my shoulders – looking much like Katniss' hairdo, except for the color. I clearly inherited the texture of my aunt's and the colour of my mom's. As I stare into the mirror, and for the first time in my life see myself clearly without the ripple of water, I decide that I'm not really that ugly. I could stand a chance with the sponsors, no? As soon as I catch myself worrying too much about money, I roll my eyes at my reflection and turn my back to it. A soft knock on my door relieves me and I immediately bound to the door and open it, staring into the face of a young, timid-looking man.  
"I am Flutter, your new stylist," His voice is soft, kind and he holds out his hand for me to take it. Confused, I take it and I feel a soft pressure in my hand. He leads me to the elevator to meet his prep team – the same as Katniss' – and mumbles soft instructions to them, inaudible for me. Panic strikes me – how can someone be so alike to Cinna? The same, calm attitude and vision and everything. Ridiculous name, though. Flutter. Who names his male child like that? Stupid Capitol people.

Two torturing hours later, I am clean and bald in places I didn't know I was supposed to be hairless and Flutter makes me sit straight on the metallic, surgery-like table.  
"I already introduced myself," He says, his black eyes trained on my face. "But I didn't mention that I am Cinna's nephew."  
My jaw drops, right there, when he says that. I'm confused, and my confusion only grows when he puts a finger to his lips, a sign for me to not tell anyone outside the team that will be aiding me in the arena.  
"This is just getting weirder and weirder." I mumble to myself as I shake my head. He smiles in reaction, and starts to tell me about my costume, including details that really bore me. Apparently, they decided to dress me and my brother in some pitch-black latex suit, with a sort of glowing cape – not on fire – hanging from our shoulders. It's simple, refers to Cinna's work but still a bit differently. It's a silent message to Coin that the rebels haven't given up on hope yet – and that one day, she will pay for her betrayal. I approve of it.

The Friesian's pulling our carriage are huge, and I'm more worried about their size blocking our view than anything else. I love the massive horses, though, and I have petted them continuously before they signalled us to mount the carriage. It's the first time I've seen such a beautiful animal in my whole life, and my clear blue eyes can't be pulled away from their shiny pelt. A shock goes through me as we start moving, last in row. James takes my hand and reminds me to smile. I stare back at him in disbelief, but just as we come into view, I have put a smile upon my face for the audience to cheer at. He waves, and I am tempted to start waving too. A flash of my face on a monitor convinces me to be more friendly, open with the fans and a second later, my free hand is waving through the air aswell. I hear cheers, names cried through the air, but I can't make out anything, the crowd is too overwhelming. I'm afraid that I will start swaying on my legs, so I lean into my brother for support, which elicits another roar from the Capitol. My smile grows larger, and we come to a still stand already. I look back over my shoulder to the big road we've just ridden over and see a great amount of flowers, all thrown by the audience. I regret not being able to catch one.

I don't remember much else of the night of the Tribute's Parade, really, only that I was exhausted of being under stress non-stop and collapsing on my bed after I had gotten up to the penthouse. I knew that things would be getting serious in the morning, so I had no want to stay up much longer after Coin's speech. First thing I wanted to do in the morning, was take a long hot shower. And so I did. When I got to the breakfast table, everyone was already there.  
"Good morning, sunshine," Haymitch shoots at me as soon as I enter the room, and I glare at him as I take a seat. Really, really not the moment to be calling me pet names.  
"Training starts today, so I want you both to be ready in time to go down to the training area." Effie even claps her hands, and I really can't believe that anyone could be so, so enthusiastic about children's lives being destroyed. In silence, I butter my bread and ignore her instead – I'd be in time, whatever, I just had to change.

"We're too early!" James complains as we arrive in the basement, the training area. It's ten o'clock, and we're second to arrive – only District Four is already here. I pat my brother's shoulder and walk up to the little stage where the Head of Trainers will explain the rules to us tributes. James sulks along and peeks glances at the other two, taking a hostile stance what causes me to roll my eyes at him. He's such a child when it comes to this, really. I nod at the other two and don't remember their names. Five minutes later, everyone is downstairs and the training begins. Haymitch has given us clear instructions: make allies.


	5. Chapter 5: The Training

**Chapter Five  
**_The training_

Even though our mentors' instructions were clear, I ignore them at first. I want to gain as much as experience first, before I consider neglecting my training to make friends I'll have to kill in the end anyway. I spend hours on making hunting traps and making fires, basic training that my mentors haven't taught me back home, because they didn't want us to be too good. They figured that we'd have enough time to learn that here, if we were ever pulled at the reaping. I shake my head, and decide that they were foolish to exclude this from our training. But yet again, it would've been suspicious. I must agree with them on that one. Especially now that I can watch the careers being extremely good at anything. But who cares? They're the Capitol's favourites anyway, there's no way they'll get in trouble for being trained beforehand like we would, if it would ever be discovered.

I move along to the eatable insects part, where the two District Four tributes have spent quite some time already. I crouch next to them and the instructor starts all over, and the two begin to show off their knowledge immediately. I can't help but sigh and join in, surprising them with my experience. Katniss took me to the woods for hours, teaching me what she knew, because she thought this was very necessary. Halfway through the lesson, James joins me and I start talking with the other two. They barely seem to know each other.  
"I am Ethan." The boy, fourteen years old and very shy, mumbles. I nod and offer my hand to him, but he only stares at it while biting his lower lip. The girl does take it and firmly shakes it.  
"Hey, I'm Aubrey." She says – I estimate her to be about seventeen.  
James glances at me and continues on his test. I, too, focus on the test again and seem to pass it. The teacher gives us all a compliment and urges us to move along.

The second day of training, I start to execute their assignment and start talking to tributes that I might like. First on my list: the boy from District Ten. He seems to work on his own, and looks smart. I approach him as he's practicing in disguise and join in. Peeta's taught me a great deal of this, and as there's no instructor, I begin mixing paint to get a deeper colour, tracing the lines of a tree's bark on my arm, like I have done so many times at home. At first, I don't pay attention to him and he doesn't pay attention to me, but after a while, as my disguise improves, he starts shooting glances at me. I smile to myself and let him open the conversation, if he wants to anyway.  
"How do you do that?" A hoarse voice addresses me, demands an explanation. His eyes pierce at me, his look fierce.  
"You have to pay attention to details. Here, let me show you." I walk closer to him and adjust his attempt at mimicking my tree-disguise by adding a few lines, making the colours more realistic as well. He watches me closely as I tend to my arm again, copying my motions and actually succeeding in applying a nice bark on his arm. I smile at him as soon as we're finished and he introduces himself as Logan and shakes my hand. My first possible ally.

To my great surprise, I actually learn a great deal during these little trainings. I adjust my way of fighting, improve in basic skills and improve my stamina. It makes me feel better about the odds in the arena. Perhaps I really could stand a chance. James, too, seems to be doing very good in here, and I notice that the careers have set their eyes on him. Being family of a victor gives a great reputation as well, and we both notice that in the way that everyone speaks to us. I try not to let it get to my head – they'll be happy enough to kill us as soon as we're in.

The rest of the tributes don't really capture my attention, except for the careers. But I don't really want them as my allies, because the past has proven that they are not to be trusted. Well, nobody is to be trusted in the arena, but the careers especially not. I'm not sure if James makes an ally as well, though I see him talking to that District Seven girl over and over, just like I keep talking to Logan. But we both haven't had the chance to talk about allies yet, even though we should – it is inevitable that James and I will be teaming up in the arena eventually. Family until death us parts, right? I let my breath escape through my lips slowly as I tense the muscles in my shoulders to lift a heavy metal object. I frown deep as I manage to lift it of the ground and heave it over my shoulders. Stepping back, I let it drop on the ground with a hard crash before looking at the careers with a vicious look. My brother comes over with a wide grin on his face and claps my back, giving the careers the same look. It confirms my thoughts: family until death us parts. I relax and turn to him to talk about the possible allies we have formed. The rest of the day, we spend it training and murmuring together; trying to make the careers feel uneasy about us.

After our training, Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch and Effie do everything to prepare us for our interview that will take place the day before we ship off to the arena. It mainly is trying to find a perfect attitude for the both of us; in the end, we decide to play the family card and individualize it spontaneously at the point when we're sitting up there with the presentator appointed to introduce us to the Capitol crowd. Effie spends all her time, and frustration, in teaching me how to be a lady and how to walk on heels. The lady-part works pretty well with me, having inherited the right genes from my mother, but the heels trouble me. I hate them, really, shoes with sticks underneath them to make you look taller. I have no desire in wearing them, I find my length pretty pleasant. But beauty hurts, apparently. After hours and hours of tiptoeing around in them, my calves really hurt and feel tight. I prefer training over walking on heels, really.  
"Just like your aunt." Effie mumbles as she shakes her head when I express that thought.

There comes a point where the training ends and slowly deforms into the private demonstration. I barely notice it, and find myself sitting in the lunch room, minus the tables and chairs, waiting for them to call my name. It's a long wait, and with every tribute leaving the room, I feel my nervosity grow. By the time that Logan has left the room to show off his skills to the game makes, James grabs my hand to calm himself. I smile at him and wonder what plan has formed in his mind to show the game makers that he isn't bound to die without a fight. Probably something showing off his strength. Time ticks by slowly but eventually James gets called, and I remain as last. My hand itch to grab a weapon and show my skills, my lethality. There's no way I would back down, not here, not in the arena, not ever.  
"Leisha Lossly, District Twelve." A metallic voice comes from an intercom and I get up and walk to the door, pushing it open with a steady hand. The Training Room has been emptied completely, giving the tributes room to practice whatever skill they dominate. I swallow as I watch all the material provided and my hand slides around the handle of a katana, the most beautiful weapon in the whole world, in my eyes. I test its weight and balance it perfectly in the palm of my hand, not sliding it out of its cover yet. Calmly, I walk to the midst of the training area, surrounded with dummies and more material. I have no clue how I can show them my skill with this lethal, elegant weapon when I'm not fighting any living beings. I bite my lower lip as I turn to the game makers and bow.  
"Leisha Lossly, District Twelve." I raise my voice and turn my back to them as soon as the words have crossed the distance between us. I breathe out slowly and pull the katana out of its cover and balance it in the air before me, lashing out unexpectedly in full speed and strength, feeling the sword snide through materials, but seeing nothing for I have closed my eyes.  
When I come to a still stand, I open my eyes and see the dummies slashed into bits and pieces. I can't help but smile when I see what I have left.  
I turn to the game makes again and bow.  
"Thank you for your attention." After putting away the katana, I dash to the elevator as quickly as possible, exhilarated with my action.


	6. Chapter 6: The Wait

**Chapter Six  
**_The wait_

It's only a matter of time now until we leave to the arena, where we will be fighting until Death comes for us by the hand of a game maker or another tribute, until ultimately the victor remains. I'm sitting on the fancy couch in the living room, slumped between Peeta and Effie, waiting for the points for each tribute to be announced. I am more curious about my brother's points than my own, I must admit that. I don't really care what they give me as a score, I know that I'll manage anyhow. I'm more worried of my brother, strangely, even though that's completely ridiculous. After, he is older and stronger than I am, and here I am worrying like a little girl. But family cares for each other, right? The nonchalant babble doesn't reach me, doesn't faze me and I sit there staring at the black television screen that will turn on the second they will start announcing the scores.

The screen lights up and I'm a little startled, even though I had expected it to come alive. Ceasar Flickerman has disappeared off the screen a long time ago and I don't know if he's still alive or not. It's weird, how he's just vanished off the face of the earth. But perhaps Coin has dealt with him after he became too old to still host the Hunger Games. Instead, another – strange – figure has been installed into one of the chairs that used to be Caesar's, with another woman. Apparently a female and a male joking together is more popular with the citizens of the Capitol.  
"Good evening, everyone! I am your host Horatio and this lovely lady beside me is Sapphire and we will be guiding you through another year of the spectacular Hunger Games." He babbles about things I don't care and I'm nervous, impatient for them to start on the scores. I want to know what my opponents are like, knowing who I will have to avoid and kill if I have the chance.

"Let's start, shall we?" The high-pitched voice of Sapphire irritates me, as it has year after year and I'm content that I won't have to hear her anymore after I go into the arena. It'll be so different, now being in the arena instead of watching the games on a screen, safe at home.  
"First comes… District One: Hunter with a score of ten. Harper with a score of nine." Horatio smiles his creepy smile, as he does every year, in approvement and looks at his co-presentator.  
"District Two. Chase with a score of nine. Mackenzie with a score of eight."  
I don't pay attention to the rest, because I know those four will be forming the careers. Plus a few with high scores, maybe, if they want others to be a part of their sick, little group. The other tributes all score lower than those four, but I'm waiting for both Emily and Logan's scores to come up.  
"District Seven. Connor with a score of five. Emily with a score of eight."  
I'm not sure whether to be relieved or worried that she gets a score that a career has gotten a few minutes before her. I'm sure that said career is plotting to kill Emily as soon as possible because she is as good as hers. But I can't linger too long on that thought because our hosts are going on mercilessly.  
"District Ten. Logan with a score of ten. Trinity with a score of six."  
I'm glad that both impressed the game makers, but there's always this double side: the careers would be going after them straight away to finish them off.  
"And finally… District Twelve. James with a score of ten. Leisha with a score of ten."  
Haymitch and Peeta clap our backs in congratulation while Katniss eyes me with a mask-like expression. I know that she's relieved that we didn't get higher scores than the careers, we'd be goners if we had. I remember that she and her husband were the only ones that ever got a score of twelve, and it got them into great trouble too. I allow myself to smile and hug my brother, glad that I'm not worthless after all.

We don't get much time to celebrate nor talk about our scores, because we are urged to bed a little after the program ends. I lie awake for a long time in bed, and I don't realize I've fallen asleep until a loud knock on my door wakes me up. After I get up and shower, the day rushed by like nothing, it's as if only one hour has passed when Effie ushers me back to my room to be prepped for the interview tonight. The team is already in my room and works on me, following instructions that I haven't heard. When they've finally finished with my face and hair, Flutter – the name, seriously – comes in with my fabulous, red-tinted dress.  
"No flames this time." He assures me when I see his weary look. I giggle as he helps me to put it on.  
"Why not though?" I ask him when he hands me the heels that go underneath the beautiful dress. They're quite high, but I've grown used to it anyway. I test them by taking a few steps to the mirror, and admire myself. I look gorgeous, if I may allow to say myself – smoky eyes, my lips a full red, my clear blue eyes shimmering and my long blonde hair waves over my shoulders.  
"It's time to create your own image," Flutter says it quietly as he gazes over my shoulder and into the mirror. "And I think you'll do that just fine. I take it you've gotten yourself a personality?" I nod, but he holds his hand up to silence me and grins at me instead.  
"Surprise me later." He looks at his watch now and gestures that it's time to leave now.

The first impression I get when I see the other tributes, simple is W-O-W. One by one, the boys, some of them already men, are handsome and the girls are beautiful, stunning even. It instantly makes me worry about my appearance; will I even make an impression on the audience when they've already seen them? My thoughts are interrupted when James taps my shoulder. I turn around to him and watch him beam down on me. He grins, and I can't help but grin back at him. He's my brother, but I must admit that he looks really good. The suit perfectly fits him, and somehow fits me as well. We look like a team, as we should look like. I'm satisfied with Flutter and his partner's, whom I haven't met yet (and probably won't meet at all), work.  
The Interviews begin too soon, for me, because I can't seem to find the time to calm myself down before they start. My palms are sweaty and I can't find anything to wipe them off on. I don't want to ruin my pretty dress, so I just clasp my hands into fist and hope that the sweat will dry out before I have to go to Horatio and Sapphire. I watch the tributes charm or surprise the audience, one by one, as they tick off and everything comes closer to my turn. I start waving my hands around to get rid of the sweat when District Eleven's boy tribute goes on stage. I know I'm next and the nervosity is almost killing me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here is Leisha from District Twelve!"  
My heart hammers as I hear Horatio introduce me. I stumble upon the stage and shoot a frantic look at the audience to check if they noticed that I almost tripped myself over. But there's no reaction, except for the loud cheering and applaud as I come into view. Horatio and Sapphire both bend over to kiss the air beside my cheek and wave me down on the sole couch facing theirs. I swallow and peek at the audience again, taking a deep breath as I hear Sapphire clear her throat to begin the brief interview.  
"Leisha! I think it's safe to say that we're all very, very curious about you and your brother… I take it you two are close?" I had expected the question, of course, but finding a satisfying answer is the tricky part about this. Well, obviously, my brother and I are close – there's no doubt about that. But how close is 'close enough' for the Capitol?

"Yes, we are." I decide that a neutral answer would probably be best, and try to smile at the two ridiculous-looking persons in front of me.

"Yes, yes, and you are Katniss' niece, too! Such a very interesting family you and your brother have," Horatio is so excited that I wonder if he's going to get a stroke in a few minutes, and I can't help but notice his flustered cheeks. "Are you more like your aunt or your mother?"  
I have to giggle at that question, and especially because they all seem so eager to know if I'm like my mother or not.  
"I think I can say I'm a fair mix of both."  
"Well, you look very charming in that cute dress of yours, I must say!" I take the compliment with a sweet smile, and wait for Sapphire to pick up the interview with another question.

"So… Leisha – this is something that probably is bothering everyone ever since you and your brother volunteered at the reaping. Why did you do that?" The audience goes completely silence, and I know that my answer to this question will resolve in punishment in the arena, but I must do this. It's the whole point of why I'm here.  
"I can't sit back and watch the Capitol murder two innocent children from my District again. I'd rather die myself." I say it fiercely, and stare at the cameras, with something that would probably an angry expression. Lucky for me, the buzzer sounds exactly at that point, and before everyone gets over their shock, I have stumbled back to the backstage, where Haymitch high-fives me.  
"Good job." He whispers in my ear. So he agrees, it's time to fight back.


	7. Chapter 7: The Strategy Plan

**Chapter Seven  
**_The strategy plan_

After the interview, the guards rush me to the elevator and push me in even before I can watch my brother's start. Haymitch comes with me, and he puts his hand on my lower back to ease me. I know I must stay calm, because we probably are being watched with cameras. It's not a safe place to stand up against the government, but I had to. Our mentors know this as well.

Seconds go by so slowly, as if the Capitol has made them slower, somehow, to taunt me even more. As if going into an arena to fight to the death isn't worse enough. It takes ages before my brother finally arrives in the penthouse, accompanied by our other two mentors. I sigh, very relieved, to see him unharmed and smiling. I had been so scared that he would've been punished somehow for my words in my interview. I smile back at him, and open my mouth to ask how his interview was, but he shakes his head – he doesn't want to talk about it. I can't help but frown; normally we don't keep secrets from each other.  
"Good. Now that you are both here, we can discuss your tactic in the arena." Haymitch breaks the silence. He points at the empty seats at the table and suggests that we take a seat. Five intense faces stare at each other once everyone has taken their place at the dining table. It's the last time that I will sit here, and watch these other four people, whom I love intensely. I swallow hard when all these emotions fill me, and for a second I am afraid that I will cry. How can I say goodbye to them? Do they know I won't be coming back? I'm sure that they have guessed my intentions, but it makes it no easier to express them. The silence that has filled the room remains, and nobody takes the initiative to break it. And so I sit there, looking at the other four one by one, taking them in like I have never taken them in before. I will myself to learn their faces by heart, so I can remember how they looked like in my last moments; so that their faces will give me the strength to carry on with my self-willed task.

It finally comes to the point where we know we have to start our meeting; even though we are enjoying the silence and each other's company very much. There is work to do, and we all know it will save lives in the upcoming days.  
"Have you figured out who you would like to be in an alliance with?" Katniss whispers, at last. James watches me intensely before he answers. I know what he's going to say, because I am thinking about it as well.  
"I have decided that I won't be forming a team with my sister." He says it carefully, as if he thinks he will still hurt me. But I nod in agreement. "Not at first, I mean." He adds, and I smile at him. His thoughts are exactly the same as mine, apparently. We have both vowed to save someone in the arena – and it won't be us.  
Peeta looks puzzled, though, and frowns at us. I know he disagrees with our decision, because his own experience has taught him to bond with those you trust, and not with the unknown.  
"Why?" He finally asks after another few minutes of dead silence.  
"Why not?" I ask. "I trust my brother, and he trusts me. There is no need to form a team right away. I think we'll do better work separately. We'll join forces later." Silence again.  
"Then who would you like in your team?" Haymitch repeats his question.  
"I want Emily with James." I say, fiercely. James watches me carefully. "And I want Aubrey and Ethan with me."  
Katniss writes their names down, while James names the boy from District Eleven, Antony. We're pretty sure that the deals will be sealed at request; we still are very popular among the Capitol, and with our family… Well. The odds may be in our favour, you know.

I can't but feel nervous about my fierce request to have Emily with James, no matter what it costs. I don't know what everyone will think of it, and if the District Twelve team thinks weirdly of it, they wisely keep their mouth shut. My hands are balled into fists, and I watch my veins intensely while our mentors discuss tactics to survive the arena. My thoughts are far away though, and I can't pay attention. It's getting late and I'm getting tired, but I know that sleep will not ease my mind tonight. Tomorrow, I will be in the arena, and I don't know what it will be like. It will be hard, devastating – and in the end, deadly. But how will I take on this last journey? Will we succeed in our plan, my brother and I, or will we fail? Tears well up in my eyes as fear grips me. They slowly trace their way down my cheeks to drip into the table, but surprisingly invisibly.  
The stream of words coming from our mentor's mouths go on and on, and sometimes I can't help but wonder if they will talk us through tactics all night. I really hope they won't, because I'd like some alone time, you know; mentally preparing myself for the upcoming event. It's quite weird that I would like to be alone now, since the normal reaction would be to surround yourself with those you love. But I really don't. I want to be free to cry and let go of those I love. I will be entering another chapter in the book of life, and going into it will require to let go of the other characters that have accompanied me in the previous chapters.

The endless stream of words and sounds finally come to a silence and we wish each other good night – and good luck. My brother takes my hand as we walk to our bedrooms, knowing that it isn't time to say goodbye to each other yet. We halt before my bedroom door, and he hugs me lightly. His lips kiss my cheek in a good night kiss and he looks at me with his familiar smile.  
"Don't die yet, okay?" He whispers as he lets go of me.  
"I won't…" I watch him walk away and open my door. Before I walk into my room, I look at him again.  
"And James – please keep her alive, for me."


	8. Chapter 8: Going in

**Hello to everyone reading this. I wanted to say thanks for coping with me. Please do not hold back from sending me comments about this fanfiction; it is highly appreciated if you do so. Any improvements of any sort can be mentioned to me without hesitations. Also, I would like to apologise if there have been grammatical errors sneaking in here and there. English is not my mother tongue.  
Thank you again for reading this, and I thoroughly hope you enjoy this fanfiction.**

**Chapter Eight  
**_Going in_

The night is unpleasant, full of restless dreams in which I am being chased by all kinds of terrors. I run and run for miles, panting, sweating; no way possible but forward. I can't see the things that are hunting me down, but I know I can feel their breath in my neck as soon as I slow down. I know that at one point, I give up and come to a still-stand. The things claw at me, and just as I am about to collapse underneath their weight, I wake up startled. A knock has woken me up, and I know that it's my cue to get ready; this will be my last moment here. I close my eyes again for a second and ponder about the upcoming days, though there really is no thinking about it – it will be better to trust on my instincts. I breathe out slowly to ease my racing heart and come out of bed when I have calmed down.

There's no time for shower, and I will be taking a shower in the starting room anyway, so I put on some random clothes I find in my closet and rapidly brush my teeth. I don't want to be late. I want to be able to relax before I go into the arena, and eat and drink and shower; which I can't if I slow down to think now. Well, for as much as I could relax anyway. My movements are still clumsy and slow and it starts to get on my nerves. It troubles me; how will I be able to function properly in the arena in a few hours, when I can't even get my legs into my pants without tripping myself over? I clench my teeth together and force my foot to get through its pipe. A few minutes later I find myself struggling with my shirt and throw it onto my bed in frustration. Desperation gets to me and I have to place myself onto my bed again for a few minutes before trying it again with the shirt. When I finally manage to put it on correctly, another knock startles me. I open the door and look right into Flutter's face.  
"You scared me." I smile.  
"Bad conscience?" His relaxed smile and teasing tone calm me instantly, and I'm really happy to see Cinna's nephew. I know he has my back. He will always be truthful and loyal to me, even though we have only met a week ago. Despite my smile, he sees the worry in my eyes and lightly wraps his arms around my shoulders while I, awkwardly, return the embrace to him. He holds me still for some time, and the awkward feeling fades; and I actually start to feel at ease. When he lets go, I can only mutter a simple 'thank you'. He nods at me and I can't believe that I actually have made a friend in the Capitol.

Minutes later we are both on our way to the roof, where a hovercraft is waiting for us. My hand reaches out to the ladder to climb up, but some electric current makes me unable to move. I can feel myself being lifted up and seconds later I am inside the warm hovercraft, which I can feel moving underneath my feet. Flutter's hand on my lower back urges me to sit down and a Capitol's servant comes over to inject my tracker. It hurts just a little as the liquid is shoved into my arm, but it quickly fades away as they pull away. Dinner is waiting for me and I take my time to satisfy my hunger, chewing and drinking slowly to enjoy every taste of it. My designer merely watches me as we travel further, to the arena that will be the end of me. I feel impatient, and nervous, with every second that goes by. I can't realise that I will be in the arena in an hour. It seems so impossible, like another lifetime. I can't imagine myself being in that place, fighting for my life. So unreal, while I sit here and chew on my piece of bread. My hands start to tremble and I have to put down the knife I'm holding in my left hand. I take a deep breath and stare at my, now empty, hands, trying to calm myself so that I can stop trembling. But the trembling doesn't stop, as if I'm chilled to my core – while I'm not cold at all. I can feel Flutter's stare on my face but I can't bring myself to meet his stare. For the second time in two days, I wish I was alone. Alone so I don't have to hide my fear, my angst. So I could let my tears run freely; but I can't. I can't let those whom trust me down, like Flutter, and I know that cameras are watching me closely now. This is footage that will be shown on television; and I don't want to seem weak - the girl that volunteered to save someone she doesn't know.

I keep my stare on my stretched hands until a red light goes on, signalling us that we will be landing in five minutes. I bite my lip now, anxious to get into the starting room; to take a shower and take control over things again. Having something to do is far more easing than sitting here. The hovercraft lands with a shock, and for a second I have to grab a hold on the table to not fall over. I get out of the plane and walk to the starting room, but I don't really realise it. I'm not thinking; not until I'm standing underneath the warm water, streaming down from the shower head. This finally calms me, and I feel my muscles relax.  
"Are you ready?" Flutter's voice is soft, and this time I'm not startled. I nod at him, and he helps me with the clothes. His voice remains a whisper as he comments about the nature of the clothes, and suggests the type of arena. I don't have a clue on whether he's right about the clothes, but I do know that they're very warm. It absorbs my heat.  
"What do you think? The arena?" I dare to ask him.  
"Something very cold, I would guess."  
I can't help but sigh at his answer. A cold arena, that would be very annoying. You can freeze to death so easily, at night, if you can't find shelter. But then again, a brooding hot arena is unpleasant as well. Any area is unpleasant, really, and I guess that that's the whole point of these sick games.

"Twenty seconds."  
The metallic woman's voice is loud and impossible to ignore. I turn to Flutter and feel his hand take mine. I smile, for the last time, and am surprised on how I don't have to force myself to smile at this man.  
"May the odds be ever in your favour." Is the last thing he says to me before I step into the cube that will bring me into the arena. I stand there and count the seconds in my head, twenty to one, and prepare myself for the horror the begin. The tube closes when a thick wall of glass surrounds me, and it is dead silent now. I look up and see nothing but darkness. I allow myself one last glance and Flutter and watch him nod at me, a familiar gesture now. I take a deep breath and force myself to look right ahead when I feel the metal plate underneath me push me up into the air.

At first, the sun blinds me. I can't see a thing, but I immediately feel cold air press onto me, and when I take a breath, the same cold air hurts my lungs. I blink and make out the thick, white carpet that covers the ground. On my right, I can see an immense mountain, covered in snow, and at its foot an enormous lake – frozen over. On my left, a seemingly endless forest – pine trees, I guess. I breathe out and watch my breath turned into moisture.

I can only think of one thing: this will be an ice cold bloodshed.


	9. Chapter 9: The Battle at the Cornucopia

**I promise the story will pick up its pace from now on. Thanks so far to all the people reading this!**

******Chapter Nine  
**_the battle at the cornucopia_******  
**It seems that they have put us into a sort-like arena like my aunt's first games; only everything is covered in snow here. I'm in complete shock, and can do nothing else but blankly stare at the Cornucopia, which lies in the midst of a large circle of twenty-four sockets. I can't see my brother anywhere, so I assume that he is somewhere behind the large metallic thing.

In the meanwhile, the sixty seconds that we have, are ticking away. I still can't figure out what to do next, though I have oriented myself. My eyes focus on the Cornucopia, which I don't plan to be seeing very often, and try to make out what treasures it holds. I can see weapons, and very few backpacks. Scattered across the ground, I make out some random things, none of importance to me. At last, I can make out a katana, hung in a rack with other swords. I bite my lip, crouching on my socket – ready to take off as soon as we are released. My goal is that weapon, and hopefully one of the packed bags. My lips start counting along with the deep voice, and I notice that we only have twenty seconds left. Have I been standing here, aimlessly, for forty seconds already? I waste no time scolding myself for being so stupid, and focus even harder on my mission: getting away alive.  
"One." I mouth along with the Game Maker, and jump to the ground as soon as I hear the loud bang that announces the start of the 95th annual Hunger Games.

I'm half-way to the Cornucopia when I start paying attention to my surroundings. I am faster than the other tributes, perhaps because I am lean and small. I know I can make it there first, but will I get away just as easily as I will get there? The boots I'm wearing are a perfect fit, and their soles are made for balance and covering distance by running. I allow myself to look down to the ground and notice that I do not sink away into the snow, so either my shoes or the snow must be modified. Perhaps both. I shrug it away and focus on speeding up again, my loose, blond hair flowing behind me; I'm not sure how I look like, but I know I feel scared to death; because I might meet it in a few seconds. When I finally reach the backpack I had aimed for, I allow myself to slow down just a tiny bit to grab it from the ground before continuing onto the weapon rack. Carefully, I take the katana and hang it to my belt. Satisfied, I turn around; but only to look into another tribute's face. The way the boy grins at me, makes me realise that he is convinced that I will find death by his hand; and I know that he will fail because of his over-confidence. As soon as his grin fades, I reach for a nearby weapon, knowing that if I have to pull my katana, I will die. My hand gets hold of an axe, and quickly I wave with it, making him dive for safety. I'm panting, knowing that he will come for me again; and in that same moment I can see other tributes fighting before the mouth of the Cornucopia. There are not many of them, but enough to overpower me. All Careers are there, and no doubt that this boy was one of those.

Rumbling of heavy objects warns me for a renewed attack from the tribute boy. As he lunges for me, I see no other option than drop to the ground, even though it will make me vulnerable. As I hit the ground, I feel a sharp pain in my sides, knowing that I must have hit something. But in this very moment, I have no other choice than to ignore it until I have reached safety. Rolling over, I stare up at the silvery ceiling, breathing in and out softly to calm myself as the pain in my sides remains. Sharp stabs, each time I breathe. I can't help but curse – only in the arena for a few minutes, and I already have damaged my ribs. I can hear more rumbling and I know that he is searching for me, probably hopeful for my death. But the sound seems to be moving away from me, and I allow myself to grin as well. Crawling back to my feet, quite clumsily, I whistle at the boy to turn around. Shock is on his face when he sees me, just as I throw the axe at him; hitting him in his chest. He plunges backwards into a stack of spare boots, and silence remains after everything has stopped tumbling over. I jump over some more rubbish and retrieve the axe – it may come in handy.

Crouching behind a huge box, I watch the fights before the Horn of Plenty continue on. Their techniques all differ, but each can stand against the other; it lasts almost endlessly, and for a second I fear that I will remain to be a sitting duck until one of them comes for me. I bite my lip in anxiety, longing to make an escape for the forest. I know my brother will be there, and he is my friend here. Finding him means finding safety and trust. Cursing myself for my angst, I decide to wait for five more minutes and then scooting for it. I can't sit here and watch Hunter kill tributes with ease until he notices me. Mackenzie, too, is not far away from me, and by the way the District Three boy is beginning to wave his knife clumsily, I know that the fight won't last much longer. Soon, he will fall by her hands, and she might bump into me.  
"Gah!" I huff to myself, forcing myself up for another sprint – this time to the forest. As I run as fast as I can, I can hear the wind howling in my ears; numbing out every other sound but the pounding of my heart. I don't know if they're following me, and I hope they aren't. If they are, all this has been in vain – and I know I can't let my mother down, nor my brother, nor my aunt or uncle, nor Haymitch… Nor Emily.

Crashing through the foliage, I finally allow myself to ease up. Looking back, I notice that Chase had come after me, but had given up halfway. A giggle escapes my throat, and I clasp my hand to my mouth. Very much not the moment to start laughing. It takes me a few seconds to register to icy cold air in the forest – and the difference with the meadow.

I have ventured further into the forest, and sat myself down upon a fallen tree to investigate the insides of my newly acquired bag. I found out that it holds a sleeping bag, some matches, a handful of food, a flask and an extra jacket. It is not everything that I have hoped for – rope, for example – but I am satisfied nevertheless. Especially when I realised that it had a hunting knife in it. Extra weapons always are welcome in these games. Now that I have packed everything up again, I don't know what my next plan is exactly. Finding my brother seems less important, because I now remember that we are no official allies – we will have to survive separately until the time to meet is right.


End file.
